Saturday 23 February 2008

A blustery day

Me 'n' My Boy enjoyed a brisk and bracing walk along the shoreline. It was much windier than we'd expected (hence the Extremely Bad Hair Day self-portrait below) and, though the kite-surfers were out in force, there was hardly anyone else around - which is unusual for a Saturday.





We stopped for a restorative cup of tea and hot chocolate respectively, sitting on the step of one of the 'Barbie Beach Huts' (newfangled prefabs in pastel colours which I'm afraid slightly offend my pro-higgledy-piggledy olde-worlde beach hut sensibilities, though I'm sure they're jolly nice inside).
Then back in time to catch the second half of the Wales v Italy match - a comprehensive thrashing of the Italians by an unstoppable Wales, which was rather depressing, though I have to admit there were some pretty thrilling tries. (I never enjoy it when Wales win at rugby because I just can't stomach all the gloating the next day - and you know who you are, and I'm not going to listen, OK?)

And if that was bad, then how much worse to see Scotland go down so dismally to Ireland. Oh the gloom. And minority (of one) gloom, as well, because the rest of the family, sporting genuine Irish genes as they do, were cheering on the winners.

So I'm all geared up this Not Very Super Saturday for a hat-trick of disappointment, since I can't really imagine that England will repeat their World Cup win over France.

I'm very much wishing now that I'd opted for the concert I'd been toying with going to instead.

Oh well. If it all gets too much, I can always read a book . . .

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Gosh don't you look like your son??? Well, I guess it's the other way round! I rather like the windswept look myself.

My sons were all born in Wales so they are gloating like crazy today. It won't last!

Great result for England anyway!

Juliet said...

Hi RB - I seem to 'do windswept' most of the time here!! I've never thought any of my children look much like me (which is probably a blessing for them!). They all look so much like their cousins on their father's side, that I've always assumed the pushy Irish genes have simply obliterated my own wishy-washy English ones!